


swaying trains, sheltering dreams

by silverfoxflower



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverfoxflower/pseuds/silverfoxflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif moonlights as a bouncer at Club Asgard on her Friday and Saturday nights, because she’s never been one for sitting still and dating is just not on the table right now. It’s good money, but Sif gets more trouble than she deserves. Guys, drunk and sober, hit on her, the girls on their arms staring daggers. Occasionally, a rowdy customer will take a swing, underestimating her because of her sex. Bad choice on their end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swaying trains, sheltering dreams

Sif moonlights as a bouncer at Club Asgard on her Friday and Saturday nights, because she’s never been one for sitting still and dating is just not on the table right now. It’s good money, but Sif gets more trouble than she deserves. Guys, drunk and sober, hit on her, the girls on their arms staring daggers. Occasionally, a rowdy customer will take a swing, underestimating her because of her sex. Bad choice on their end.

The first time that happened, the other bouncers had all rushed to the scene, worried and ready to step in. It was just a little insulting how surprised they were when Sif ducked easily out of the way of the man’s punch, twisted his arm behind his back, and frog-marched him to the alley.

Saturday night, she arrives at seven, two hours before the club is supposed to open. She helps Fandral set up shop behind the bar and he offers her a drink.

"Beer." She says. "Guinness."

He makes her a cosmopolitan. “Here you are, beautiful.”

After three weeks, Fandral has stopped trying to sweet-talk Sif into bed, largely due to a few well-placed threats. He still makes her drink ridiculous martinis, however, and Sif tries hard to pretend she hates them.

A banging noise from the alley alerts Sif that the DJ has arrived. She gulps down the rest of her sugary drink to the sound of Fandral's affronted sniff and heads to the back door, opening it to find Loki (or, DJ Low-Key, as he’s known to the masses) struggling with his equipment.

"Well?" He demands, then marches past Sif into the bar, leaving the amps and turntable outside for her to drag in herself. Behind the bar, Fandral makes a face at Sif, which quickly smooths as Loki sits heavily on a barstool and demands a gin and tonic.

Volstagg and Hogun help Sif carry the equipment in and set it up on the stage. Loki marches up before they start connecting the wires and slaps them all away with a snarl. He is a musician who tunes his own instrument. Sif, who is terrible with these things, leaves Loki to it with more relief than offense.

Thor comes in at 8:15, an hour late but so jovial and beloved that no one really cares. He is the club’s manager, the owner’s son and Loki’s brother. Sif has known him from childhood and once he had held her heart in the palm of his hand and carelessly crushed it.

But he also hooked her up with this job, so she can’t be too bitter, she supposes.

Still half an hour before opening, and Loki begins to mix. Something slow and hypnotic, with a rumbling, pervasive bass that makes Sif’s bones shudder. Volstagg and Thor are at the bar, drinking shit beer and trading stories of various conquests, Fandral half-eavesdropping in the way of bartenders and interrupting occasionally to one-up them. Hogun is checking petty cash and inventory behind the counter, but Sif can see him sway just the slightest to the music.

This is her favorite time, why she keeps taking shifts at Club Asgard even though her Police Officer Entrance Exam is approaching and Sif knows she won’t be able to double duty forever.

"Hey Sif," Fandral slides her two shots, and Sif almost drinks them before she realizes that Loki is gesturing irritably from the stage.

He alone is bathed in a bone-white glow, while everyone else resides in cozy darkness. Sif walks over and hands him one shotglass, then another, watching his thin lips wrap around the rim and pull back in a grimace at the burn.

He deposits the shot glasses in her palm, and Sif stares at him with a raised eyebrow until he grumbles, “Thanks.” Then, unexpectedly, “I’ll mix you a song.”

"Sorry?" She asks, because Loki _never_ offers anything for anyone else’s benefit. Everyone treats him as if his genius were a pure white flame which burns all in its path and can only be admired from afar.

"For you." He says, as if she is a slow child and the whole thing is rather tedious. "You like strong upbeats and syncopated rhythm. I see you bopping away while you herd the unwashed masses." His fingers, thin and cold, begin flying over his turntable. Immediately, he is absorbed into the music and gives Sif no more attention.

Bemused, she finds her way back to the bar, depositing the sticky glasses behind the counter.

Outside, a small line begins to form. It is ten minutes to opening time. Soon, Loki will become DJ Low-Key and his beats will become harsh and rhythmic, his songs shaking with the intensity of sex. fear. pain. need. violence.

But now the club is quiet with the hum of familiar voices. Loki’s music is as slow, as sensual as the breaths of two lovers sleeping entwined.

Sif closes her eyes and dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> [more fics](http://actualmenacebuckybarnes.tumblr.com/tagged/myfic) can be found on [my tumblr](http://actualmenacebuckybarnes.tumblr.com)!


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